Malik to Crossdress
by Cerberusia
Summary: The Yugitachi want to infiltrate a women only card convention, because there's something funny going on. But only women are allowed, and the females are unavailable! So, who will have to pretend...?
1. Prologue

**Malik to Crossdress**

_A/N. Well, I decided that I couldn't do without a Malik cross-dressing story, and I couldn't find any, so I decided to make one myself. What is this obsession I have with Malik being feminine? Ah well…Enjoy!_

_Malik- You forgot the disclaimer._

_Ah yes, indeed I did. How stupid of me. 'Kura, if you please?_

_Yami Bakura- Cerberus (a.k.a. Patterns of Blood) does not own Yu-Gi-Oh!. If she did, it'd have a completely different theme- like yaoi._

_Right then. Now that's out of the way, on with the fic!_

**Prologue**

"Well, are we all clear?" Yami's voice came, from where he was sat, straight-backed, on the ground.

The others' faces showed that they were clear- perhaps _too_ clear. They had all heard, seen and done weird things during their lifetimes, but _this_? This was insane!

"Just let me get this straight," Seto Kaiba was, of course, the first to recover, and his sarcastic tone rang out in the silence. "You want one of the males here to cross-dress, in order to infiltrate this…card function, because _you_ think there's something not quite right?" He paused for breath. "Have you _any_ idea how _ridiculous_ that sounds?"

"No. In fact, I believe that it is perfectly reasonable. Why?"

"Well, for one thing, who here would actually _manage_ pretending to be female? And for the _whole_ convention? It makes no sense."

"Actually, you two," Bakura broke in, softly. "I think we might know someone who can…"

/Three hours later/

"I can't _believe_ it took so long to find the address," Honda grumbled, as he dragged his feet along the road on which the group's destination was. It had taken them an hour to find it, another hour to plot a way to it on the map and get ready, and yet another hour to get there.

"Oh, quit whining, Honda-kun. We're here, aren't we?" An irritable Jounouchi asked, turning his head slightly to glare at his friend.

They reached the door, and paused.

"Well? Do you want to do this or not?" Yami was impatient, his shoulders twitching.

"Are you _sure_ he'll do it, Bakura-kun? It seems rather a lot to ask of him…" Anzu's voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Of course it will, Anzu-kun." Yami assured the brown-haired girl. Taking the initiative, he knocked twice on the door. A few seconds passed, and it opened.

"Oh, Allah. What do you want _now_?" In the doorway, looking at the group with something akin to despair on his face, stood the one who had just uttered these words.

Malik Ishtar.


	2. Chapter I

**Malik to Crossdress**

_A/N. Well, it's good to see you all again, and thanks to all who reviewed! Here are the responses:_

_ShadowFoxx15: Yup, he did. I'm glad you seem to like it!_

_Kotori-chan: Of course Malik'll crossdress! I'm glad it sounds cool- thanks!_

**Chapter I**

Malik sat in an armchair, one eyebrow elegantly raised in an expression of incredulity. The situation had just been explained to him, and the group, in various poses on chairs, sofas and the floor, waited nervously for his response.

"Well…it's an interesting idea…" Everyone blinked when the Egyptian spoke, his tone neutral, though a hint of amusement crept through. This was _definitely_ not the expected reaction. Several people blinked, and let out sighs of relief.

But his next statement made everyone's mouth drop open.

"After all…it's not as if I haven't done this before…" he mused, frowning slightly.

"You-you've done this _before_?" Jounouchi was the one who first got the words out, though with a slight stutter, his eyes as big as saucers.

"Yes. In case you hadn't noticed- which you evidently have, as this proposition shows- I am, perhaps unfortunately, rather feminine, in both looks and actions. Pretending to be a member of the opposite sex has never seemed much of a problem." Malik was calm, and apparently bemused as to their surprise and horror. Growing up in a dark underground tomb hadn't really exposed him to the taboos of everyday life, and he saw no reason for their flabbergasted expressions.

"When was this?" a bemused voice asked, from the depths of a large chair. Yugi had tilted his head to the side, and was regarding Malik curiously.

"Well, for nearly all the time I was in England, most of the time in Egypt when I was out of the tomb, and then a sizable portion of the time I've been in Japan. The façade poses no problem for me."

"So you mean you spent most of your life pretending to be a girl?" Kujaku Mai broke in, surprised by this revelation. The Egyptian merely nodded, his expression still neutral, but now thoughtful as well. "Kami-sama, you must have good acting skills…"

"Or just be very girly!" Otogi piped up, twirling a dice between his long fingers.

"You're one to talk…" Malik mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Does this mean you'll do it?" Anzu tentatively broke the silence, which had hung heavily in the lounge for a few minutes, as everyone digested the information which had just been brought into the light.

"Of course." And, with those two words, the boy's fate was sealed.

_A/N. Alright, that's the end of the first proper chappie! Yes, it's short, but next chapter will get onto the really good stuff, and this just seemed like a good place to stop. Hope you enjoyed it, and please review!_

Cerberus

(Patterns of Blood)


	3. Chapter II

**Malik to Crossdress**

_Hey, it's me again, Cerberus, with another chapter of MtC. Before I write anything more, I have to say, that I have no idea where this fic is going. I know I want Malik in a dress, males drooling over him, and him actually knowing more about how to act female than was previously thought._

_I also know that I want there to be a party somewhere, with Ryou in a dress._

_I have a fascination with teenage males in dresses._

_I don't think I want any pairings- I'm horrible at romance. However, I'm sure that I can make a few of the male Yugi-tachi start drooling…_

_Anyway, before I give away the entire (vague) plot, onto review responses!_

_Tachimois: You mean as in crossdressing? I sympathize- I'm _addicted_ to them…And I have every intention of continuing, don't worry!_

_Neko Ryou: You know, your name gave me the funniest picture inside my head…Anyway, I agree Malik looks girly, which made him an ideal choice for this story…I contemplated Ryou, but then decided that Malik was more plausible. There are more fics like this out there, and I've actually found some of them, though I can't remember them. Though if you want a Girl!Malik, then try Kiwi J Wolf on FFnet, who has a story of Malik being found out to be an actual girl- and he didn't even know it himself!_

_ShadowFoxx15: Um…I'm updating now? I'm sorry I take so long, but my excuses are below. –Heh-. I'm glad to know you think it's funny; it's meant to be humour, after all._

_I'm sorry that putting this up took so long, but I've been concentrating a lot on my 30kisses drabbles and WTS._

_There, now that the reviews are done, and I've finished rambling, we can get on with the story!_

**Chapter Two**

"Kami-sama, where the heck _are_ they?" Jounouchi grumbled under his breath, glaring at the slightly-ajar door, which lead out of the lounge, and into the hall. This was the first official 'group' meeting, after the visit on which the plan was revealed.

I say 'group', because the girls of the Yugi-tachi had been firm that, despite Malik already female-style wardrobe, left over from his days of cross-dressing in England, they should buy him some more 'girly' clothes. Malik, helpless against the female onslaught, agreed.

And, of course, a feminine trait had carried over- the shopping gene.

They had dragged the poor Egyptian around various shops, until they were satisfied with the choices they had made. This had taken roughly two hours- a much shorter shopping trip than expected, considering the victim's gender.

It would seem, however, that Malik knew rather more about female clothing than expected, and didn't object to all the dragging, primping and squealing, instead choosing to go with the flow; i.e. actually help. A pleasant surprise to all there.

Right now, the girls were having the time of their life with Malik's hair, clothes, make-up, and fake bust.

There was little fuss about the chest padding; after wearing it for three years almost constantly, Malik was used to it, and managed to get into it without much drama.

The clothes were also simple; long-sleeved t-shirt and girls' jeans. Already, he looked more girl than boy.

The hair, however, was more complex.

It turned out that the Egyptian's hair was not as short as it seemed- far from it! For underneath the hair that everyone on the street saw, there was a thick bun of gold, pinned up so that no-one could see.

Well, you can imagine the reactions.

The females were delighted- long hair to play with! It was down to his ankles, in a thick sheet. They wondered why he tied the stuff up- it was lovely when let down.

Finally, the make-up.

Malik refused to part with his kohl under any circumstances, so that was a given. Not even it's style was changed; the girls had finally given up attempting to convince him.

Then mascara. After the fourth try, Malik rolled his eyes, grabbed the brush from them, and proceeded to do it himself, muttering about 'idiots who try to poke out your eyes with a mascara wand'.

Within five minutes of Jounouchi's complaint, the door opened, to admit the 'beauticians' and their victim.

Jaws dropped.

Where there had been a disturbingly feminine boy, there now stood an extremely pretty girl, with the longest hair any of them had seen; it was down to her ankles, and gently curled into loose waves.

A reasonable (fake) bust, t-shirt and jeans completed the ensemble- 'Malik' was now 'Malakh' (1), _female_ duellist, and most definitely ready to masquerade as a girl.

Honda broke the silence.

"Are you sure he wasn't a girl before?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, blinking.

Malik just rolled his eyes, in the manner often shown by those who have to deal with idiots on a daily basis.

"Quite sure, Hiroto. Now, if you have no other stupid questions, perhaps we could run through the plan again?"

"I have a question," spoke Jounouchi, staring at the masses of golden locks.

"What?"

"What the hell happened to your hair? Did you use somethin' special to grow it? 'Cause it's a hell of a lot longer than it was when I last saw it."

"I grew this stuff over my entire life, Katsuya. It's never been cut, and probably never will be. I generally tie it up in a bun, hidden under my hair, to make me seem at least slightly less feminine." A pause. "_Now_ do you suppose we could run through the plan again?"

END CHAPTER

_A/N. _

_(1) 'Malakh' means 'Angel' in Arabic. I happen to be extremely fond of the name._

_Erm…don't kill me? I'm aware it wasn't my best chapter, but please accept it as a humble offering. –Bows-. Anyway, like I said at the top, I'm concentrating a lot on WTS, as that's my most popular series of stories. Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	4. Chapter III

**Malik to Crossdress**

**Chapter Three**

_A/N. Sorry, I couldn't do the review responses before, but they're up now!_

_Ryzel: Well, it works on the same principle as how Heero in Gundam Wing can pull a gun out of those tight spandex shorts, and how anime females can pull hammers from behind their backs. Anime and manga ignore all sense of physics. And have I still got 'Allah' there? Damnit, I thought I corrected it...Thanks for reminding me!_

_ShadowFoxx15: Thanks! It's nice to know what people think of my story. I've always thought Malik was girly, and had an insane image to put himin a dress, and so this story was born..._

_Neko Ryou: I still like your name...And I want my hair long enough to sit on! Lucifer, I want it...I have a slight fascination with hair; whenever I spy someone with long hair, I have an insane urge to hug it, or sometimes them. And the chest padding...well, unless there's other ways to have a fake bust...I'm glad you found it funny; it's humour, after all. Thanks for the encouragement!_

_And so we start the chapter..._

Malik slid around the large behind of an obviously influential male diplomat, fake smile plastered firmly on his tanned face. _'Probably pulled strings just so he could ogle all the girls, ecchi waru.' _He was wearing stiletto heels; sharp and high enough to break the ankle of the wearer, and castrate whoever the wearer kicked. They had supposed been chosen for the second reason, but, after seeing Jounouchi and Honda's badly-hidden smirks upon seeing him wince, as he teetered around, he now strongly suspected the first.

"Hey, pretty," an obviously drunk man- _'Where do they come from? This is females only!'_-had come up behind her, and was smiling creepily. "Wha's yer name?" he asked, in a drunken slur.

"Bastet Malakh." Alright, so it wasn't the most secretive of aliases, but it would have to do.

"Well, Bastet-chan…" the man lurched forward, and before Malik had time to react, placed his hands on a rather…_personal_ part of the boy's anatomy, shown off well by the scarlet dress.

That was when Malik freaked.

'_Bastet-_chan_! That…'_ He promptly took action; he screamed, and put the stilettos to use in the second way listed above.

The man collapsed, yelling in pain. Several people looked over, and a few hurried to help/

Malik took one look at the situation, and fled.

Safe in the ladies bathroom, he took to touching up his make-up, as a way of reassurance. _'Wash off smudged kohl- hell, wash entire face; cold water should help- reapply liberally, add more lip-gloss, and done.'_

Now, much calmer, Malik looked at his reflection, and really took in what he saw. A dark-skinned female, at least eighteen, (oh, the wonders of make-up), with long blonde hair, loosely plaited to his waist, before falling free to his thighs. _'Oh, this disguise is good.'_ He mentally thanked the gods that he had dressed in drag before, smiled, and walked out of the bathroom, followed by the eyes of envious females, wondering who on earth that attractive woman was.

Once back at his room, Malik rummaged frantically in his suitcase for five minutes, before finally finding what he was searching for; the little earpiece that gave a live feed directly to a certain room in KaibaCorp.

"Oi, you lot!" he hissed into the tiny microphone, praying they were there.

"What?" asked a cheerful female voice.

Malik mentally groaned. _'Anzu'_.

"Konbanwa, Anzu. I was just wondering what I need to do- after all, I'm in safely, and you must have some idea of what I'm to do."

"Oh, hai! There's a list by the console…Ano, it says 'Snoop around'."

"Anything else?" _'Ra, the girl's stupid…'_

"Iie, just that. Nani?" Malik mentally cursed whoever wrote the list with the ten plagues of Egypt- couldn't they have been more specific?

"Oh, nothing…Um, Anzu, is anyone else there?" _'Please let there be someone else there…hell, right now, I'll even take Jounouchi!'_

"Iie, just me! Nani? Did you want someone in particular?" _'Maybe the gods are on holiday…'_

"No, not really…Arigatou anyway, though!" He quickly turned the device off, preventing his eardrums from bursting, due to the loud, high-pitched, obnoxious voice of the girl whose friendship rants had made his life a living hell. _'Ra, she's annoying…maybe I could run her through with the Sennen Rod? Tempting idea…'_

And with that cheerful thought in his head, he changed into his sleepwear, thankful to be rid of the fake bust and stilettos, and climbed into bed. It took barely seconds for sleep to come.

_END CHAPTER_

_A/N. Well, it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it! I'm sorry it took so long, but my Dad cut off my FFnet access until I finished a story which was 'over 1000 words, with an actual plot'. Gah. Well, I've got my friend Jess to put this up for me, thankfully! -Glomps Jess-_


	5. Chapter IV

**Malik to Crossdress**

**Chapter Four**

Malik awoke to the sound of birds chirping, and the sensation of sunlight streaming gently through his window.

Well, not really.

In fact, he awoke to the sound of his communications device beeping, and a strong feeling of impending doom, as he recalled where he was, who (and what) he was pretending to be, and what he had to do.

He groaned, and burrowed back under the covers.

The beeping continued.

With an irritated mumble, Malik crawled out of bed, and to the tiny device which connected him to his…associates. (He refused to call them friends).

"Nani? What the _hell_ is it at this hour?" He snarled at the miniature microphone, feeling thoroughly aggravated. He wanted _sleep_, damnit!

"Oh, calm down, Ishtar," Seto Kaiba's cool voice filtered through the speaker, and Malik had the strong urge to strangle something, preferably the person who the voice belonged to. How the CEO could be awake this early, he had no idea- it was only six o'clock, and most people were still abed.

"What do you want? And make it quick- I want to get back to sleep as soon as possible," the blonde glared at the piece of machinery in front of him, imagining it was Seto Kaiba.

"You won't be getting back to sleep; you need to be up and alert for noticing anything amiss. Have a shower and wake up properly, or you'll be of no use whatsoever." The device beeped, as Kaiba signed off. Malik swore colourfully in Arabic, but did as he was bid, hoping the hot water would soothe him somewhat.

Two hours later, now marginally more awake, thanks to hot water and coffee, Malik stood at the buffet-breakfast table, choosing what to eat. He was trying to find something small; he ate very little, preferring large amounts of liquids to solid food.

Suddenly, a very feminine hand reached into his view, and a body pressed against his side, causing him to stumble and fall.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" A high-pitched female voice exclaimed, and he was confronted with a face as feminine as the hand; fine-boned and delicate, with large, china-blue eyes surrounded with short, curling blonde hair. "I didn't notice you- I'm so sorry!" The eyes grew wider, as she grew panicky. "I'm sorry, miss, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you. And it's alright- it was an accident." Malik stood up, mentally taking stock of his injuries. A slightly bruised hip, and that was it. That done, he turned to the girl who had knocked him over, and smiled slightly at the height difference- he was 6"1, and she only 5"2- quite a difference.

"Might I know your name?" The Egyptian remembered to inject both his voice and expression with polite interest. He had no need to distort his voice- it sounded female anyway, much to his older sister's chagrin. _Now remember; nice, polite, friendly._

"Oh, it's Murata Hotaru- And I'm really sorry!" The girl's IQ certainly wasn't much- he'd guess it was about the same as her age. Sweet, but rather slow.

"I've already said it's fine, Hotaru-san," the girl could have only been sixteen, and quite naïve for her age. Ah well, she'd be worldly soon.

"Are you sure? Because-"

"Absolutely sure." Malik cut her off, and escaped quickly into the breakfast garden, before Hotaru could apologise any more. It was sweet, but annoying.

All around him, women sat at tables, eating breakfast and chatting. He passed among them for a little while, but found most of them boring; few conversations even involved a mere mention of cards. _It's like a wretched gossip club._

Finally, he gave up trying to find someone- or something- which interested him, and retired to his room, to wait for lunch, when he could do some more socialising, and search for clues.

_END CHAPTER_


	6. Chapter V

**Malik to Crossdress**

**Chapter V**

_Alright, whose bright idea was it to advertise it as a female only convention, then invite a load of men?_ Malik snarled mentally, once again in the killer stiletto heels. It was warm, and though he was basically in what could, under other circumstances, be classed as silk underwear, he was still overheating. The air conditioning was apparently faulty.

He frowned, tapping his long, blood-red nails on his glass. What could he do to complete the mission he had been sent here to do? Some questioning probably wouldn't go amiss. Well, he could do that. Searching around? That too- he was good at picking locks and cracking codes and whatnot.

Just as he was about to begin his questioning, a maid came scurrying up to him, calling the name 'Bastet-san'. It took him a moment to recognise that she was calling him- he still hadn't quite got used to his alias.

"Suminasen, Bastet-san. A package has arrived for you- what do you want me to do with it?" the woman asked politely, with a bow.

"Ano…where is it?" A package? What on earth…?

"At the front desk, Bastet-san."

"Well…I'll come and collect it. Just let me put down my drink." He placed the glass carefully and quickly on the side, then hurried after the maid.

There was indeed a package- normally wrapped, perfectly innocent.

"There was a letter with it, Bastet-san." The maid handed him the letter in question. Malik frowned, and ripped open the envelope. The paper inside read:

'_Malakh-chan,_

_I've sent along some extra clothes for you- you always pack too light, silly girl! Your Tou-san and I both hope you're doing well- we're proud of you for doing this, for stepping out a little._

_Love,_

_Kaa-san_

Well, Malik had expected nothing else- a false letter, in case some nosy parker opened it. He thanked the maid, then hurried up to his room, wondering what the package could contain.

He soon found out.

The paper was removed, to reveal a box, with the words 'Ayame's Fantasy Shop' (1). _Nani…?_

He opened the box, and blinked. His eyes were surely playing tricks on him. That thing in the box surely couldn't be…

It was.

"Aaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh!"

When Malik had recovered sufficiently, he read the note which had been hidden inside the box- the true note. It was short and to the point:

'_Ever heard of room service? Use the things enclosed in the box to do some investigating._

_The rest of the team'_

He placed the letter on the bedside table, and considered what could be under the…_thing…_on top. Surely they couldn't be worse than the _thing_, could they?

But really, a _maid's outfit_?

He steeled himself, and lifted the offending piece of clothing out of the box and onto the bed, to reveal three things.

Two were perfectly innocent; wash-out black hair dye, and a contact lense case, which opened to reveal startling green-tinted lenses. Fair enough.

The third thing was anything but innocent. It was almost worse than the maid's outfit.

"Suspenders?" Malik asked no-one in particular, a sort of horror in his voice. "Are they _kidding_?"

Apparently not.

Now, Malik would consent to wearing girlish clothes- it had been normal practice for him for several years. He would even wear a dress, if needed.

But _suspenders_?

Nu-uh.

But he would have to, in order to make this work…

'_Oh, Ra…'_

Having calmed down somewhat, Malik returned downstairs, to find that lunch was still going on. As a matter of fact, yet more people seemed to have joined it.

He made his way over to where he had left his glass- hidden behind a plant pot, so that no-one would steal it.

He picked it up, and was about to take a fortifying sip, when he noticed something odd; little grains of something white floating on the top. He frowned, and held the glass away from his lips.

Slipping into a dark corner, still holding the drink, he opened his purse, and removed from it what looked like a miniature thermometer, albeit with a longer, metal 'needle'.

This was what he inserted into the liquid in his glass, praying that the device worked.

It did- within seconds, the poison detector (for that was what it was) had a reading:

_Arsenic_.

Malik suddenly realized, feeling slightly faint, that someone had tried to poison him.

_END CHAPTER_


	7. Chapter VI

**Malik to Crossdress**

**Chapter VI**

_A/N. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I'm late on the review responses! Here;_

_Chapter 4-_

_ShadowFozz15- Indeed she is. She's much better in the original, though; the dub killed her characterisation. (In the original, she's a lot more kick-ass)._

_Neko Ryou- Too much Star Wars? Keh…And I'm glad it was funny!_

_Mitsuki355- Eck! Don't die on me- you need to read the rest of this story! I assume you found it amusing…My personal favourite is the stiletto part._

_Chapter 5-_

_ShadowFoxx15- Work ethic doesn't even cover it…The closest I can get is 'obsession'._

_Chapter 6-_

_Ra86- Short review, but it's appreciated._

_ShadowFoxx- You know, you've reviewed every chapter so far…I generally make the chapters about 500-700 words long, as I regard that to be a decent size, if I'm going to write them all in one sitting (which I generally do). I make them like that so I feel like I'm getting somewhere; a trick of the mind, but it works in getting me to write more. And 'authoress-dono'? I feel so loved…_

_To the story!_

Malik sighed as he hurried upstairs to his room. The rest of his lunch had been spent furtively looking around for the person who had tried to poison him. No-one looked suspicious, however, and he was finally forced to concede defeat.

He entered the room, and almost flopped down on the bed, when he remembered the package, and the note which had come with it. _'Oh, Ra…'_ He removed the items necessary for his task from his bedspread, and _then_ collapsed onto it. He was jittery after the 'Poison Incident', as he called it, and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. Maybe if he put it off another day…But no, he had been sent here to do a job, a mission, and he would do it- Malik Ishtar was _not_ a slacker.

Well, not always.

Sighing, Malik wriggled off the bed. Maybe a bath would do him some good.

_/Time break/_

Later, rather more relaxed, dressed the despised maid's outfit, hair dyed black and green contacts in his eyes, Malik crept along a corridor, balancing a tray of food in his hands.

And yes, he _was_ wearing the suspenders. Which he _swore_ were sliding down, but couldn't check, due to the tray in his hands. He was also sure that the skirt was riding up, but couldn't check that, either.

And considering how short the shirt already was, it riding up any further was _not_ a good thing. _At all_.

For his first 'target', he had chosen a man he had seen earlier at lunch; an Amerikajin (1) by the name of Vanner Ralph, or Ralph Vanner, considering his nationality.

Knocking on a door whilst balancing a tray of food in one's hands was no mean feat, but somehow Malik managed it.

He pasted a smile on his face as the door opened, and sent a mental prayer to whichever deity might be listening, for this to go well…

_/POV shift/_

Ralph Vanner, when he ordered room service, had expected the maid who delivered it to be plain and dull, with a bored look on her face, probably chewing gum, as she recited the lines that the head of catering had drilled into her.

He had _not_ expected, however, this raven-haired, emerald- eyed, tan-skinned young woman, with an incredibly short skirt, and who read her lines in a low, suggestive voice.

He gaped like a fish for a few moments, then regained his composure.

"Ah, d-do come in…" he stuttered, holding open the door.

The maid complied with a smile.

_/And a POV shift back again/_

Malik smiled politely at the man, but inside, he was terrified. _'WhatdoIdowhatdoIdohshitohshit!'_ were the lines that his thoughts were currently running on. He had never been in this situation before, and it was worrying him- he valued experience, and with this, he had none of it.

He followed the man into the room, and his eyes widened. He had thought his chambers were luxurious, but they were nothing compared to _this_! _'Someone must be pretty rich to have all this…'_

Vanner-san gave him a slightly nervous smile, and instructed him to place the tray on a low table. Malik sent various unpleasant mental curses his way, when he had to bend over (remember the short skirt?).

"Now then, Maid-san; I'll be back in a minute. Just wait a second, will you?" the man edged away towards the bathroom._ 'Sodding pervert...Should have knocked him out when I got the chance.'_ Malik said none of this, of course, but merely smiled politely, as the man excused himself.

Quickly and quietly, Malik leapt up from his seat, and began to search the room. He rifled through the drawers of the bureau, then moved onto the bed, being careful to put everything back in it's proper place.

He was in the midst of inspecting a chair, when he suddenly remembered what the man had said- only a minute. And by the sounds of things, he was just finishing up.

For a moment, Malik was panicked, then he remembered.

Let it never be said that fake busts are useless for anything other than padding.

Quickly, Malik stuck a hand down the top part of the outfit, and removed…

…A tube of superglue.

It took only a second or two for him to squirt some of it in the crack between the door and the doorjamb, and only three more for it to become solid- it was quick-drying.

_/Thirty seconds later/_

"Ah, Maid-san?"

"Hai, Vanner-san?"

"Ah, I can't get out…"

"Oh dear!" Malik attempted a panicked voice. "I'll go and see if someone will help!" And he promptly fled, leaving Vanner to bang helplessly on the super-glued-shut door.

_END CHAPTER_

_A/N. Well, what do you think? Sorry it took so long to update, but I lost inspiration, and my computer went kaput. But everything's sorted now, so I should be able to write more of this soon!_


	8. Chapter VII

**Malik to Crossdress**

_Buon giorno! –Waves- I am returned, from ye horrors of exams, and have with me a new chapter of MtC._

_Reviewer Responses:_

_ShadowFoxx15: I…did? Ah, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! -Bows frantically- Gomen nasai! I'll fix it, I swear!_

'_Authoress-sama'? Ooh, I'm flattered…-Giggle- And yes, that was rather close. –Whew-_

_Steeple333: I have tried to keep him fairly close to his Battle City characterisation, yet still able to do the things I demanded of his character. I suppose I see him as having 'grown up' a little, after the whole BC fiasco. He's still a little (well, maybe not…) spitfire, though! He snapped at Kaiba because I don't see him as being a morning person. Can't blame him, either…-Mumble-_

**Chapter VII**

The next morning, Malik was awoken not by a small electronic device, but by the sound of someone knocking rather loudly on the door. He quickly dragged himself out of bed, blinking tiredly.

"I'll be there in a minute!" he called, rather groggily, quickly slipping on the fake bust, bra, and a lavender dressing gown, cursing women's underwear to hell and back in hissed Arabic. He may have worn it for a good part of his life, but it didn't mean he _liked_ it.

He wrenched the door open, not bothering to paste a polite smile on his face, opting to simply scowl at whoever had dared interrupt his sleep.

The maid gave him a nervous smile.

"Ano, this is for you, Bastet-san…" she trailed off, apparently somewhat intimidated by Malik's Early Morning Death Glare O' Doom.

"Ah…Arigatou…" Malik mumbled, not bothering to be formal, as he took the package from her hands, and shut the door in her face, leaving the frightened woman to stare at the door in surprise.

He crawled back into the bed, and tore at the packaging. Hey, he'd never said he was particularly neat. He managed to remove it, to find a large box, bound with sellotape. He swore, before reaching into the drawer at the side of the bed, and withdrawing a pair of scissors, and hacking at the sellotape until it gave way.

Finally, he was able to lift the lid, and did so, to reveal something that, while a shock, wasn't as bad as before.

He reached in, and carefully pulled out a red satin dress, cunningly cut to hide the fact that his cleavage was squishy and plastic, whilst still showing a suitable amount of skin- it emphasized the legs.

It also had a back, for which Malik was grateful- had it not, it would have provoked some rather…_interesting_ inquiries as to the nature of the designs on his back, something he would rather avoid.

He placed the item of clothing aside, and continued perusing the package. At the bottom of the box, after removing a large swath of blue satin, among other things, he found the expected envelope. He opened it in much the same way as he had opened the rest of the package; quickly, messily, and completely without mercy.

It revealed the following letter:

_Malakh,_

_A friend is coming to visit, for the event at the end of the convention. She will be waiting in the entrance hall for you tomorrow. You will need to help her get ready. Her dress is also enclosed in this package- it is the blue one._

_Love,_

_Tou-san and Kaa-san_

Malik put the letter down, and promptly turned back to the blue satin which he had quickly placed on the bed in his search for the letter. He unfolded it, and found that it was indeed a dress- a rather nice dress, cut in the style of a gown, down to the ankle, with long sleeves, and a high neckline.

He frowned. Who would be coming? Presumably one of the girls, but which one?

Mai was over in America, designing a clothing line. She'd always been fond of fashion, so it was a good choice. And he doubted that Jounouchi would let his younger sister do anything potentially dangerous…

Which left Anzu.

_Oh dear._

It wasn't that Malik particularly had anything _against_ Anzu- she was a very nice girl, as he had seen, and he was fond of her for that, but her 'friendship speeches' grated on his nerves sometimes.

Though when she had snapped, and hit that boy for insulting Yugi a few too many times? That had certainly upped his opinion of her.

But being in close contact with her for a day, with no real means of escape…just the thought made Malik blanch (as well as he could, considering his skin tone).

Unless they'd managed to get another guy in…But they wouldn't…would they?

'_Ack…too much thinking. Ah well, time to go do that sneaking around that I've been planning…_

_/Time break/_

A small click echoed in the darkness, and a voice cursed rather loudly. "_Khara!_"

"Why is this happening _now_!" it snarled in Arabic. The voice belonged, of course, to our hero- er, hero_ine_- Malik Ishtar, who was currently wondering why in the seven hells his torch wasn't working.

Mumbling under his breath, the Egyptian stumbled around the store room, falling over assorted boxes of who-knew-what (probably silicone, he thought).

At last, he found the light switch, and pressed it.

Nothing happened.

Letting out a muffled shriek, he hit is fist against the panel, and the lights flickered to (rather half-hearted) life, illuminating the area.

He peered around, taking note of the mini-path-of-destruction he had made, whilst blundering around in the dark, and wondered where to start.

It had seemed a great idea at first- search the storage rooms, see what would be found. Then, he realised just how big the rooms were, how stuff was in them, and suddenly it didn't seem like such a great idea after all.

For a good hour, he searched, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. Eventually, he gave up, striding irritably out of the storeroom.

But not before tripping over a small box, which fell open, to reveal an odd contents.

At first glance, it seemed harmless, but a closer look proved it's identity.

Malik frowned, peering yet closer, wondering if his eyes deceived him.

No, he was right; it was a bomb.

_END CHAPTER_


	9. Chapter VIII

**Chapter VIII**

_Ah. Yes. Um. Well._

…_I suppose there's no real excuse for leaving this for so long, is there? Nearly half a year…I'm sorry! But all my school work just went up a notch (actually several), and I had to work a lot at Maths. (I'm able, but my teacher last year was crap. I'm doing much better with my new teacher)._

_And so, review responses:_

_ShadowFoxx15: Cliffhangers are evil. However, they keep you reading, yes? –Grin-_

_Mitsuki355: Updating as ordered! And yep, a bomb. Yay, 'splosions!_

…_Ahem._

_Begin chapter!_

And so, for the second time that day, Malik turned pale.

"_Kharakharakhara!_"

A _bomb_. Of all things to find, it just had to be a bomb. Oh, how _wonderful_. Now, how does one dispose of bombs, Malik wondered. Maybe call Kaiba? Yes, call Kaiba, that would do it. The bomb wasn't ticking, so he presumed it was safe to take a few minutes to telephone.

Quickly, he exited the room, taking care not to knock anything over or leave any other trace of his presence. He took delicate steps out of the door, looked around him, and bolted for the nearest telephone as fast as his legs could carry him (he was a fairly fast runner, but the skirt was a pain).

"Kaiba."

"Ishtar." They had never been particularly fond of one another, or polite.

"There's a bomb."

A pause

"A bomb? Where and how? And why do you feel the need to tell me this?" Malik heartily wished that he could remove the bored, arrogant tone from Kaiba's voice at that moment. Why on earth the gods had seen fit to saddle him with such a person was beyond him.

"As in, a bomb in a storage room, fully assembled, ready to be set."

"And once again: why do you feel the need to tell me this?"

"_Because I want you to get rid of it!_" Malik snarled into the phone, giving the opposite wall the evil eye.

Kaiba sighed. "Very well. I will send some personnel out to you as soon as possible- in the meantime, try not to cause any damage."

The phone clicked off. Malik pulled it away from his ear, and glared at the now-dead communication apparatus. Arrogant bastard.

_/Time break/_

Well, that had been…eventful…Malik decided, leaning against a wall tiredly. Kaiba's bomb-squad had at first wanted to burst in making a lot of noise and commotion, and it had taken him a whole twenty minutes to convince them otherwise. Then he had had to smuggle them in and out. Which may not sound too difficult, in a building that large, but _you_ try getting a whole squad of people in big helmets and loud boots into and out of somewhere without being seen.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that he had to be a maid again tonight. He groaned, and wondered whether he could possibly just not do it tonight. No-one would ever know…

At that moment, his mobile phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw that he had received a text message. He opened it:

_Don't even think of skipping._

Malik swore under his breath. Damn Kaiba…

_/Time break/_

From a small suite on the fourth floor of an elegant Kyoto hotel, a thump was heard. Then another thump. Then several more thumps, and stream of highly unladylike Arabic curses, which peeled paint off the walls, and would probably have peeled the skin off any passing humans, had there been any. As if was, there was only a stray cat, who, despite not being able to understand Arabic (or in fact any other human languages), went deathly white under its ginger fur, and fled in the opposite direction.

Inside the suite (the bathroom, to be precise), was one Malik Ishtar, a.k.a. Bastet Malakh, who was currently in the midst of attempting to wring out a wet pair of tights, and failing miserably.

He had bought them in the hope that he would not have to wear the dreaded stockings again. Unfortunately, they had managed to pick up some odd pieces of white dirt, which proceeded to smear. White dirt on black tights: _not_ a good idea.

Finally, he gave up, with a final exclamation of 'Khara!'. It was as if, somewhere, the assorted Egyptian deities were laughing at him…

_Somewhere a little nearer than beyond the horizon, (north-east England, to be precise), a small teenage girl was sat in front of her computer, cackling maniacally. A small piece of chocolate was at her side, which she occasionally gnawed with the lack of guilt of one who knows that she can eat whatever she wants without then having to frantically diet. Her blonde hair waved in a pre-Raphaelite manner at the back, then frizzed madly around her face, which, coupled with her deathly white pallor, gave her the look of an electrocuted- then-drowned corpse, a la Ophelia._

"_Nope, not the gods- just the authoress. But in this case, it may be the worse for you…"_

_Grinning insanely, the girl continued with her typing, the clattering of keys becoming quicker, as a burst of inspiration hit her._

_/Back to Malik/_

The 'maid' smiled politely at the man, who was rambling on about his business assets in some company-or-other. _'Ra, this is boring…'_ Malik thought, twiddling his toes in the flat court-shoes he had chosen for tonight. He had declined the high-heels: if he had to run, he wanted to be able to do so without tripping over some wretched item of footwear, resulting in an undignified faceplant on the thick carpet.

At last, the man shut up and retired to the bathroom, though not entirely- he could still be heard through the door, blathering on about how a central heating system worked. Which was probably very fascinating, but Malik couldn't have cared less at that moment.

Quick as a wink, the Egyptian boy began to search the room. He looked in drawers, on tables, and under the seats of chairs. Nothing.

Just as Malik was inspecting a pile of paperwork, the bathroom door opened. In his hurry to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime, so to speak, his hip bumped the desk, and a secret drawer shot out. He didn't even think: he grabbed the contents of the drawer, a lone, test-tube-like bottle, and slammed it closed again. The man didn't appear to have noticed.

"Now, Malakh-chan…" Internally, Malik winced. The '-chan' suffix was just too much. He was wondering how on earth he was going to extract himself from this situation he had managed to dig himself into, when his mobile phone rang. _'ThankyouthankyouthankyouwhoeversonthephoneevenifitsAnzu!'_

"I'll, ah, just step outside a minute…" Malik gabbled, scrambling for the electronic device, and hurrying out the door without waiting for an answer.

"_Just to inform you that your partner has been dispatched."_ A cool voice said. Kaiba. There was click, and a gentle buzzing noise in his ear. Malik swore irritably. Irritating bastard…But his curiosity was piqued. The letter had spoken of a partner, and he had wondered then, but now it interested him more. Who could it be?

As he walked along, he was entirely absorbed in contemplating this question, so it was not surprising that he forgot about the vial clasped tightly in his hand. When he did so, he swore again (he had had a late night), and prised it from his fist. Looking at it, he saw white-grey powder, finer than salt.

He didn't need to consult a medical textbook to know what it was: _arsenic_.

Again.

'_Oh, shit.'_

**END CHAPTER**


End file.
